James Patterson - Postcard killers

"My roommate has gone back to Finland. You can have the lower bunk in my cel on Langholmen. It's not a problem."

He said it in a light, joking way, careful not to show any feeling. It's not a problem.

She hesitated a few seconds before answering, her eyes stil on his.

Then she made up her mind. "Okay," she said and turned her bicycle around.

It started to rain as they passed the Zinkensdamm metro station, almost halfway to the hostel.

They started walking quickly. Jacob turned up the col ar of his suede jacket, but the water stil trickled down his back. He shivered in the cold.

"I can give you a ride if you like," she said. "If you have the guts to get on."

"On the bike?"

She nodded. "Of course. Only if you dare."

He sat on the narrow luggage carrier at the back, holding on to her hips with both hands. She set a good pace, and they flew past a large church with two identical spires. Her thighs moved rhythmical y and methodically. She was 115 strong and obviously in good shape.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory of Lucy. She had once given him a ride like this in Brooklyn, a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, before Kimmy, before the drugs and adulthood with al its complications came into the picture and shattered a perfect life for al of them.

He jumped off as Dessie rol ed into the parking lot in front of the youth hostel.

"What are the rules?" she asked, taking off her helmet. "Are you al owed lady visitors in your room?"

"I'm not about to ask for permission or about any rules," Jacob said. "I'm a big boy now."

"Are you?"

He pul ed her to him, her body shaping itself to his. Her hair smel ed fresh, like fruit again. He closed his eyes and felt her warmth through his jacket. She breathed lightly against his neck.

Then he kissed her.

She tasted of rain and corn on the cob.

Their clothes ended up in a heap just inside the door of the former prison cel.

They didn't even make it to the Finn's lower bunk before she drew him to her. They landed on the floor and he slid into her with no resistance, his eyes catching hers.

He could feel the room starting to spin and had time to think no, no, no, not yet before he came inside her with a hoarse roar.

He sank down on top of her, hiding his face in her hair.

Damn, what a failure. Coming after ten seconds. What must she think?

But she kissed his hair as he lay there panting and trying to pul himself together. Then her hips started to move beneath him.

At first he thought she wanted to get up, but when he went to move, she took a firm grip on his buttocks and held him to her, held him right there.

"Relax and go with it," she whispered in his ear as the swaying beneath him started up again. "Stay with me."

To his surprise he felt himself getting hard again almost immediately.

He did as she said and al owed himself to be swayed by her rhythmic movements. Her whole body was sucking and pul ing him into her, harder and deeper.

He noticed he was starting to breathe heavily and join in, his pulse speeding up and throbbing in his head, and when he felt the dizziness come, he stopped and looked into her eyes. Her gaze was completely unfocused. She wasn't far off now.

"Come here," he said in a gravel y voice, pul ing out of her and lifting her up onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Relax and go with it."

She stretched out on the lower bunk, her legs hard and sinewy, her stomach soft as velvet and her breasts firm and wel shaped. He let his hand glide up along her thighs as he leaned forward to suck one of her nipples.

Dessie groaned and her whole body shuddered.

He sucked and licked her entire body, and when he final y pushed inside her again she leaned her head back and yel ed. While the contractions were stil convulsing her lower body, he felt the rushing noise in his head grow into an explosion that made all sound and vision disappear for him.

When he came to his senses again, he realized he was freezing.

He rol ed to one side, sliding out of her. He fumbled for the covers beneath them and pul ed them over their bodies.

She looked at him, wide-eyed and surprised.

"Wow," she said.

Dessie was still astonished at what had happened.

When she accepted his invitation to stay at his place, she had made up her mind that nothing like this was going to happen. Her life was so turbulent just now that a messy affaire was the last thing she needed. Probably the last thing Jacob needed, too.

"Wow?" he replied, and smiled.

Now his eyes were warm again, that crazy blue, completely focused on her.

This real y wasn't good at al. How could it be?

She ought to get up at once and leave and face the damn reporters at her house.

Instead she smiled back.

"Dessie," he whispered. "Dessie, Dessie, you're pretty amazing, you know that?"

She felt a warmth spread inside her, out from her stomach, her core.

"Dessie," he said again, this time in a questioning tone. "What sort of name is that anyway? Dessie? "

She cuddled up next to him. He pul ed her closer so that she could rest her head on his chest. She let her fingers play on his skin, smal, featherlike strokes.

"I was christened Desiree," she said, "the least known of the Swedish princesses."

She could see her mother in front of her, Eivor, her dear, sweet mom, born in 1938, the same year as Desiree Elizabeth Sibyl a, the second-youngest of the Haga princesses, the "Hagacesses," daughter of Crown Prince Gustaf Adolf and his wife, Sibyl a av Sachsen-Coburg-Gotha. Princess Desiree was Eivor's great role model, so it was obvious that that was what her daughter would be cal ed.

"It's a beautiful name," Jacob said.

She laughed.

"You can imagine how much fun it was being cal ed Desiree when you're ten years old and living in Adalen. 'Desiree, have you got diarrhea?'"

"Poor Desiree," said Jacob, stroking her hair, then her face, his fingers lingering.

"It was lucky my cousin Robert from Kalix came to visit sometimes,"

Dessie said, lifting her face to look at Jacob's. "Robert was big and strong, and he protected me."

He kissed her, and she felt an immediate little shiver between her legs.

She felt him react the same way.

She rol ed over to sit on top of him and nibbled gently at his earlobe, then his cheek.

If this was wrong, how come it felt so right?

Dessie kissed Jacob's eyes one at a time.

Friday, June 18

She was woken by a muffled electronic noise. It was coming from somewhere beneath them, and she waited quietly until the annoying sound stopped.

Careful y she laid her head back on Jacob's chest and breathed in his smel, a combination of sweat and aftershave. Everything was quiet. The sun was already high in the sky, drowning the little room in white light.

Dessie wondered how long she had been asleep.

An hour, maybe two.

She wanted to lie here forever. Never have to get up from this bed or leave this man, never do anything else for the rest of her life but make love to him until the day they died, or possibly until the lack of caffeine made her change her mind.

It would soon be unbearably hot in here. In his cel. That much was a certainty.

She wriggled her way out of his embrace, pul ed herself up on one elbow, and looked at his sleeping face.

He looked so young when his face was relaxed and al his worries were far away.

His hair curled over his forehead and spread out on the pil ow. He couldn't have had it cut for at least six months.

Not since Kimmy. She thought about Jacob's daughter now, picturing her face. How unbearably sad to lose her like that… to outlive your own child.